


Just David

by melanie1982



Category: David Bowie - Fandom, Jennifer Connelly - Fandom, The Labyrinth - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Love, couldvebeen, pleasenohatecomments, shippingtho, withallrespectforreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: DISCLAIMER: In real life, I do not know anyone featured in this story. I have zero insight into what sort of interactions David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly had off-screen. This is completely fiction.I mean no disrespect to either David or Jennifer, nor to their respective spouses, exes, children and so on. Please, no hate.Jim Henson's characters belong to Jim Henson. I make no money from this work.Lyrics are from David Bowie and Radiohead, respectively.Poem is from Longfellow.*ends disclaimer*Jennifer deals with the loss of David in her own way. The subconscious is a strange animal; her 'memories' are part fiction, part truth.In the end, love is all that matters.





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One

*music* "It's only forever.."

She knew it was emotionally questionable. 'Unhealthy,' some would say. Still - Jennifer kept gravitating back to the soundtrack in the days immediately following David's passing.

Remembering David as he was then - in his prime, so vibrant, so.. so HIM, was a comfort, as well as a torment.

It wasn't harming anyone to play it in the house while she was alone, as the others she held dear went about their routines out of earshot. He seemed closer when she listened to his music. Oh, she owned his other works, of course, but this CD was the only one for which she had such a distinctive frame of reference. Every note brought back a unique memory, something fans could never hope to access. They hadn't been there; they hadn't known him. This note recalled a wry smile shared across a busy sound studio; that one, a private joke between takes. 

Her mentor. Her friend. Her unconsummated lover.

He had gone by many names, but few had ever truly known the man behind such a simple, unassuming moniker.

As Jennifer loaded the dishwasher, loathing the way it partially drowned out the music (yet knowing dishes still had to be done, just as the world must continue to turn without him in it), she remembered the moment she'd known he'd accepted her. To nearly everyone else on set, he was 'Jareth,' but, mid-sentence, as Jennifer had been asking him for input on an upcoming scene, he had rested a hand on her arm, gentling her into silence.

"David."

"What?"

He had smiled, that lopsided, toothsome grin everyone loved him for. "Just David."

From that moment onward, nothing had been the same.


	2. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer's dreams begin to trouble her.
> 
> Are they the workings of a grief-stricken psyche, or something deeper?
> 
> Which of her dreams represent real memories, which are visitations, and which are mere glimpses of what could have been?
> 
> You decide.

Jennifer was an intelligent woman. Even back then, she'd had an old soul, a wisdom beyond her years; it was one of the reasons she and David got along so well..

..and also one of the things which had made life complicated.

Speaking to her, spending so much time with her, David could've forgotten himself. A lesser man would have. Then there was the fact that the movie was filmed in England, where the age of consent was sixteen, and chronologically-premature dalliances were almost never prosecuted. The tension was there.

Or was it?

She often wondered, looking back, whether she had imagined it all. David was so magnetic; perhaps she'd simply mistaken his general sex appeal for signs of specific interest. He was a natural at relating to women, having such vast experience; it had to be all in her head, the feverish romanticizings of her hormonal self.

But Jennifer couldn't be sure. Now she never would be.

Her husband tried to offer solace. While never explicitly discussed in detail, he was well aware that the two of them shared a unique emotional bond.

Rubbing her back in soothing circles as she awoke from a dream, he listened as Jennifer recounted the events of her nocturnal sojourns.

After a few moments of quiet, confident that she had finished speaking, he replied.

"It's not just David's loss you're feeling. It's what he represents. He was a part of your life at a time when you were moving into adulthood; that's a big deal. I mean, your first real role, the attention, the pressure to succeed, on top of the normal stresses of pimples, crushes and mid-terms? Heady mix."

She sniffled. "So you think this is about me dealing with .. what? Getting older? Fears of the future? Figuring out what's real and what's just rosy nostalgia?"

He smiled. "All of that and more."

Jennifer had done nothing of which to be ashamed. Then again, she wasn't entirely innocent, either. It was a strange state of moral flux; part of her had wanted to be wanted, while the other part, the one operating on logic and reason, had recoiled at the idea. Perhaps she and 'Sarah' had been more alike than Jennifer had realized or cared to admit.

"Which version of my memories is real? How am I supposed to remember him?"

Her husband stroked a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Those are two distinct questions, and I can't give you an easy answer to either one of them, other than to say that you should remember him in whichever way helps you the most."

Ever since the Labyrinth had premiered, Jennifer had fielded questions and endured innuendoes surrounding her time with David. They were answered with neither a coy smile nor with unbridled ire. Every inquiry nettled her, because there was no pat answer for the curious fan or pleasantly playful talk show host. How did you categorize what she felt for him, what they shared - and what they hadn't shared?

Therein lies the problem, Jennifer thought. How DID she want to remember him? 

As the couple slid back into sleep, the dreams resumed.

David had sent Jennifer a birthday card for her sweet sixteenth. It went against his better judgment, but, for a man who had built quite a successful and multi-faceted career out of going against his better judgment, it was a minor blip.

The card had sat, rather unassumingly, among many others from friends, family, and a few unnervingly resourceful fans who had managed to obtain her actual address. As the festivities were winding down for the evening, Jennifer had sifted through them, and something about the script on his called to her.

Inside was a generous sprinkling of silver and white glitter, which instantly showered her feet where she stood. (She would swear for years afterwards that they never did manage to get every speck of the stuff, no matter how deeply they cleaned). The card depicted an owl in flight, passing the face of the moon, and the message within was simple, yet so very special to her.

"This is no card for an ordinary girl.. You know the rest. Welcome to adulthood - at least in 'my' realm. Happy birthday! Yours, David."

Jennifer had read and re-read the card. Adulthood? And why had he said, 'Yours'? Not, 'Love.' But could 'yours' mean more than 'love'? Was he offering himself to her, rather than being presumptuous and mentioning the L word? And did he mean 'realm' as in the Labyrinth, or 'realm' as in England? Why did he sign it 'David,' if he meant the former? But why quote the film if he meant the latter?

Such an odd mix of fact and fantasy, past experiences and future possibilities.

That was her David.


	3. In the Midnight Hour, She Cries More, More, More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer growing up, with and without him

The dreams were like movie reels, chopped into one another like a sophomore AV Club project.

Nothing went in sequence after that.

Jennifer saw herself getting ready to go out for the first time.

Not just 'out' aimlessly like her peers back home; no. This was OUT out, in London, all of eighteen years old, but of age to drink there.

The notion of running into 'him' was fleeting, but nevertheless left her breathless. Clad in a tight off-shoulder navy blue dress and her fringed leather jacket to keep off the chill, Jennifer brushed her hair 'til her scalp tingled. 

One of her girlfriends snatched the hairbrush away before Jennifer did herself a mischief. "Rebel Yell" began to play on the radio, and Jennifer thought, not for the first time, how much Billy Idol seemed to try to channel something of the Bowie bravado. 

There had always been a little bit of Bowie-ness to each of her love interests. Perhaps she'd meet someone like him tonight; perhaps -

But it would never be as good as the real thing, would it?

The night went well enough - from what she could remember of it. No Goblin Kings or Prince Charmings had materialized, but this *was* a dream. Fantasy began to overstep the boundaries.

"It's you," Jennifer gasped, taking in the sight of David as he tended bar.

"Naturally. Now you're truly old enough, anywhere in the world."

She took a long swallow of something which felt ice-cold in the glass, yet burned on the way down. "Old enough for *what*?," she croaked, making a face as the sting subsided.

"Anything you like. You always were a clever girl."

Just then, the REAL bartender tried to oust David from his chosen locale, only to back off when he realized just whom he was dealing with.

"Sorry, mate. Didn't know. Big fan." The burly server bustled back to the other end of the bar, busying himself with patrons there.

"Now. Something smoother, to take the edge off?" David was offering her.. a drink? Or..?

"I think I need some air," she heard herself saying, and like that, David made his way to her side of the bar and led her by the hand.

"I do hope you're pacing yourself. You were always in such a hurry to grow up; and look at you. You've done it splendidly." David was appraising her, and the color in her cheeks had nothing to do with the cold night.

"I.. You didn't send a card," she said, instantly regretting it.

"But I did. It will be there when you get back."

Of course. She hadn't been home; she'd come here to - to what?

"I admit I didn't send a card *last* year, but I always toast your health."

Jennifer blinked. "You do?"

"Always. Not just on the milestone years, but every year. Each one is important."

He remembered her birthday every year? "Why is this one special?"

David led her back inside and to the dance floor. "You're a woman now. We can have a dance, and no one will be able to call me nasty names for it."

Just like that, 'Rebel Yell' came on. Hardly conducive to romance, but she knew the words, and David's imitations of Billy's gesticulating were very funny.

The song changed just as she was getting into the swing of things.

The club vanished, and she was alone, calling his name, uncertainty in her voice.


	4. And The Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer's dreams continue

There were other boys, other projects; Jennifer pursued various interests, and life continued on - but she never forgot him.

Sometimes, one of her children would use a certain turn of phrase, or make a particular facial expression, and it would jar her memory. They couldn't be his, of course; perhaps it was his childlike quality she noticed in them, or a creative spark. Maybe it was nothing, and she was simply reading too much into things.

Maybe.

Cards arrived for special occasions, and Jennifer tried not to expect them. Expecting them made her heart heavy and her body achy, so the best thing to do was to focus on the event itself and not on whether David acknowledged it. 

Sometimes flowers arrived, usually on a random Tuesday when she needed them most. The card was always blank, and she wondered why. Was he suddenly shy? Had he met someone? Was he afraid of causing friction at home? Jennifer wasn't sure how she knew they were from him, but she was. She just was.

The crystal paperweight Jennifer received one Christmas had sent her spinning. Once she was alone, Jennifer hadn't been able to resist holding it just so - her muscle memory guiding her - and speaking the words as she peered into it, searching for her dreams.

The exercise brought no vision, no voice - but her heart knew. It always does.

More tortured dreams of almost-kisses and near-misses flitted in and out of the truth. If only she'd stood on tiptoe just *then*, his lips would've grazed hers; if only she'd pressed closer during the dance scene, he might have - 

Jennifer hated the what-ifs. Dream David was so like Jareth, offering a glimpse or a taste, but never following through. Waiting for her to be ready.

It was time to take control of the situation.

The very next night, Jennifer confronted David. They were seated on a stone bench near the Goblin City; David was in mid-sentence, praising her performance in Roy Orbison's music video (God, had she really been twenty-two then? She looked younger!), when Jennifer stared at him, very intently.

"What is it?"

"You. You show up, night after night, confusing me with.. this," she said, gesturing at the world around them. "Pieces of history, mashed together with emotions I never told anyone about.. things that never happened.."

He looked sad. "I never meant to cause you pain." As he rose to leave, she reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his wrist instead.

"I wish we'd.. But I was so young. I was foolish, but not reckless."

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," he said softly.

"I wanted.. I just wanted. You must have known."

David nodded. "I told myself it was all my own dark imagining. I pushed it up into the attic of my mind, piled trunks and boxes on top of it, and tried to forget."

"But?" When her eyes shone like that, he couldn't hold back the truth.

"I'm glad to know it now. I don't regret the love I found, nor do I begrudge you your joys. I only wish that, somewhere in between it all, we'd found a moment."

Jennifer became very still, but did not let go.

"Will you say it, just this once?"

His lip curled into a smile, but he feigned ignorance. "Which part?"

"Any of it. Anything at all."

She could hear it any time - on DVD, or CD, or any number of ways. But those methods were available to anyone. This - this was just for her.

"Sarah."

Jennifer leaned into his arm, so warm and alive. 

"Jareth. No one else can ever call me by that name."

Jennifer rose to standing, face to face with him now. His equal. Every morning brought with it a new twinge, a new gray hair, a new whisper of a wrinkle - but David saw past all of that. He saw her as she had been, as she would always truly be on the inside. 

"Precious."

They kissed then, and it was everything and yet not nearly enough all in the same moment. "And now, Jennifer again."

"David." Another kiss. Was it real?

When it was over, Jennifer felt herself sinking. 

"Will I see you again?"

David said nothing, growing fainter as she fell. The only thing that gave her hope was the fact that he was smiling.


	5. Thy Fate Is The Common Fate of All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer gets an unexpected series of gifts - nay, miracles.
> 
> Love never dies.

Jennifer did not see him the next night, nor the night after. From her extensive reading on the afterlife, she knew that many believed grief blocked visitation from loved ones. The information gave her little comfort, but at least all hope was not yet lost.

One morning, she was going through old spam emails, when she found a subject line typed in all caps: "SARAH - DO NOT DELETE ME!"

Trembling, Jennifer opened the file, waiting for the attachment to finish loading. 

The email had come from a studio executive's account; that was why it had missed her inbox. As the strains of 'Lazarus' began, Jennifer closed her eyes. She was familiar with the track by now, but this.. this was an unplugged version.

Plugging in her headset, she allowed his voice to surround her. This version was never released; it was all for her. 

The audio file was only about a minute long, but it was precious to her. Brushing away tears, she felt ready to face the rest of the day. How many women could claim they'd been serenaded from the other side by a lost love? 

Her discovery of the clip had come too late for her to reply - but David knew. The timing was perfect, after all.

\---------------------------------------------

Jennifer started to notice bluebirds, even owls, in jewelry, paintings, and in nature. Had they always been there? 

Under her breath, she always addressed the flesh-and-feather ones by name:

"Hello, David."

\--------------------------------------------

Signs became few and far between. Jennifer began to push away, telling herself coincidences and grief had led her to the wrong conclusion.

After a desperate one-way conversation/rant aimed at the empty air above her bed, Jennifer settled into an uneasy sleep. Gentle laughter filled her dreams, though David eluded her, always one step ahead, just rounding a corner, vanishing through a wall. She beat on the doors to the castle, awakening to a *real* pounding on a *real* door.

"Package for a Sarah Williams?" The UPS driver looked puzzled; this lady looked familiar, but the name didn't fit the face. Oh well.

"Oh. Yeah. That's.. Thanks." She scribbled a signature, smudging the 'J,' leaving the man more perplexed. Still, it wasn't for him to worry about such things.

Jennifer stared at the package, afraid of it. Then, deciding that was ridiculous, she tore into it, removing a CD in a case without an insert. 

This was it. She'd lost her mind. Totally gone.

So she thought.

Seated at the dining room table, Jennifer pressed play on the home entertainment center's remote. David's voice filled the space.

"It's only forever.."

This quickly segued into a familiar intro. Oh, how he had given her grief for liking this band! "Aren't you a little old for 'college bands?,' Jennifer recalled him asking.

David sang with relish:  
"When you were here before  
Couldn't look you in the eye.  
You're just like an angel;  
Your skin makes me cry.."

Jennifer wasn't sure anymore whether that memory, that conversation, had really happened, or if she had simply wished it so - but it no longer mattered. The lyrics followed their usual course; he hadn't disrupted them - yet.

Driving guitar emphasized his urgency, and still, over it all, she could hear his mirthful undertone, imagine his smirk.

"But I'm a creep.  
I'm a weirdo.  
What the hell am I doing here?  
I don't belong here..."

Then his own remix skills came into play:

"Your eyes can be so cruel.." 

The instrumentation was still Radiohead, but the lyrics were scored on her heart.

"You're so fuckin' special.  
I wish I was special..

As the world falls down.."

How? How could anyone make that work? The answer was, nobody else could. It was pure him.

The bastard. He'd had time to plan, of course; David had known what the world had not, and had made the most of every opportunity to reach out and touch those he would leave behind.

"I'm a creep..  
I'm a weirdo..  
What the hell am I doing here?  
Up here in heaven.."

More changes. David continued to put a new spin on his own lines, blending them with the original lyrics on a dizzying rollercoaster ride.

"Whatever makes you happy.  
Whatever you want.  
It's only forever..  
I don't belong here.  
I don't belong here."

The CD continued to run, the LCD marking off the seconds - but there was silence. Had there been a glitch? Jennifer moved toward the stereo to eject the disk - she couldn't bear it if it got scratched - and David's voice returned, subdued, but undeniably him.

David was reading poetry.

"Longfellow," Jennifer said. How had he known? 

'Be still, sad heart! And cease repining.  
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.  
Thy fate is the common fate of all;  
Into each life, some rain must fall,  
Some days must be dark and dreary."

Then the guitar began again, along with David's vocals.

"I never got to kiss you;  
I wouldn't know how.  
I never said 'I love you;'  
I guess I'll say it now..

I didn't want to leave you.  
It's a beautiful world.  
Your life isn't over.  
We'll never be over.  
I don't belong here."

The track finished - truly this time, the CD segued into the next. For the second track, David had done a cover of 'Tonight Tonight,' and her inner emo poser-kid was squealing.

Meanwhile, Jennifer collapsed, tears streaming. She wanted to crawl into the stereo and melt into the disk, spinning forever. She wanted to weep for days. She wanted to - 

And then the sun came out in her world.

Jennifer took stock. She had a career which spanned far beyond the cult status of 'The Labyrinth.' She had a husband and a wonderful family, great friends, and who knew how many years ahead of her.

Jennifer had tangible proof of the enduring power of love, as well as her memories. Who cared whether those memories were 'real' in a physics sense? They existed within her, and nothing else mattered.

"I can go on. I can do this."

And so she did.

Every day that passed was a day closer to solving the mystery. Every sign of age was a trophy to be showcased, rather than a burden to be borne.

Life was not over, but some day, it would be.

Not so with love.


End file.
